


Nightmares

by Fanficchica



Series: Rang De [5]
Category: TharnType the Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, mentions of Type's sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24860689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanficchica/pseuds/Fanficchica
Summary: Nightmares are not new to Type...but when they happen to Tharn...well that's a whole new ballgame.
Relationships: Tharn Thara Kirigun/Type Thiwat Phawattakun
Series: Rang De [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794151
Comments: 27
Kudos: 287





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> A.N: Well I'm back to throwing some angst at my boys! On a more serious note: trigger warnings for some mentions of Type's sexual assualt. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Do I still need to write this?? We know it doesn't belong to me...

Type still doesn’t know how Tharn ends up sleeping over in his apartment half the time but...he’s not outright objecting to it. He won’t say it out loud but he does appreciate ~~prefers~~ having Tharn close to him.

The bond is happy and Type feels...cared for in the way that he has always wanted. So yeah- he doesn’t outright object to Tharn sleeping in his bed more than normal.

He does protest a bit- for the sake of propriety.

One thing he forgets to factor in though are his nightmares.

There’s never a prelude to them. No indication that Type could suddenly scream himself awake, struggling to bring air into his lungs.

The first time it happens, Type feels a body holding him down and he automatically lashes out, still caught in the throes of his nightmare. His knee connects with soft flesh and there’s a grunt of pain above him before the body rolls away and then suddenly the room is awash with light.

When he realizes he’s hurt Tharn, the guilt that suffuses Type is sharp and he pulls away from the man with apologies spilling from his lips.

But Tharn doesn’t let him get too far. He shushes the apologies, makes Type sit on the couch and throws the blanket over him. He brings him a glass of warm milk and then switches on the TV, settling on the couch near Type.

He waits until Type’s curled under his arm before asking, “Are they about _him_?”

Type sips at the milk, letting their warmth and the heat of Tharn bring feeling and comfort to his numb body, “Hmm. They change in scenery. Sometimes I’m at the beach and he yanks me under. Sometimes I’m in my room and he’s there behind the door. I once dreamed he was _here_ ...in the apartment….couldn’t sleep the rest of the night. No matter where I am...he’s there. He’s never going to go away.”

Tharn wants to say something but the words seem meaningless. So he just nuzzles the soft hair under his chin and begins to sing under his breath.

Type mutters, “I’m not a baby; you don’t have to sing me a lullaby.”

Tharn had only smiled, pressed a soft kiss to the tip of Type’s nose and continued humming softly. Type had fallen back asleep in minutes.

After that, with Tharn’s warmth near him, Type finds that instead of waking up with a scream in his throat, he merely wakes up in a cold sweat. The phantom touch of _him_ never goes away but having Tharn hold him, seeing their soul marks and the bright mandala on his back; they bring Type back to himself and he’s able to settle.

But tonight when Type wakes; it’s not because of his whimpers.

It’s because of Tharn’s.

They don't register at first because it’s so out of the blue but the soft cry next to him is what really wakes up Type. He flicks on the small light near their bed and the room is bathed in soft yellow light.

There is a soft litany of _no_ emanating from Tharn as he twitches in the sheets and the slight sheen of sweat that covers his face makes Type worry and he reaches out to shake the sleeping man's shoulder.

“Tharn? Are you okay?”

Tharn is faster.

Still deep in sleep, his finger curl in a vice-like grip over Type’s wrist and Type winces at the pressure. He tries to yank his hand free but Tharn refuses to let go.

Type is just about ready to kick the man awake when Tharn lets out another cry, “Not Type! Please! Please don’t hurt him.”

The breath freezes in his chest.

Type stops, watching as Tharn’s face crumples in a grimace and he cries again, “Please; don’t hurt him. Not him. Take me not him not him please - not my soulmate _please_!”

It’s like breathing icicles into his lungs; every stuttering breath hurts to hear Tharn begging like that and it makes Type’s eyes burn.

God is this what it’s like for Tharn to hear his nightmares? To hear him begging for help and crying and knowing he can’t really help defeat the monsters in his head? To feel this useless and unable to hel-

No. Tharn does help. And Type now knows what to do.

Leaving his wrist in Tharn’s grip, he lifts himself to rest agaisnt the headboard and maneuvers himself so that Tharn is now lying against his chest, his ear over Type’s heart. Tharn struggles, his pleas and whimpers laying a fresh wound on Type’s heart.

Type hushes him, speaking low, “It’s okay Tharn. I’m right here. Listen to my heart; I’m right here with you. I’m not leaving. I’m safe and I’m here with you in my arms. Just breathe. I’m here.”

His free hand curls itself in Tharn’s hair and he runs his fingers through it. Having his hair petted is a favorite of Tharn’s and Type uses that knowledge to his advantage. Still stroking, he begins humming the nameless melody Tharn uses for him.

And it works.

Slowly, Tharn’s breathing returns to normal, his pleas taper off and the grimace that wrinkled his face smoothens itself out. Type’s wrist is still caught in his grip but he does not try to pull away.

He just pulls Tharn closer to him and continues the humming until finally Tharn’s breathing even out and Type joins him in sleep.

They don’t talk about it the next morning until they’re both in Tharn’s car on the way to the university and Tharn casts guilty eyes on the red marks around Type’s wrists for the nth time.

“Stop that. I told you I’m fine.”

It doesn’t seem to appease Tharn; if anything, his grip on the steering wheel grows tighter.

The silence continues until they’re in the parking lot and Tharn’s searching for a space. He’s backing into an open lot when Type finally decides to speak, “Your nightmares...are they- they’re about me and...and him right?”

Tharn says nothing and Type turns to ask him again but the words die on his lips when he sees wetness trailing down his soulmate’s cheeks.

Sighing softly, Type reaches out slowly and lays his hand over Tharn’s left hand; the one with Type’s name on it. The muscles tense under his touch but slowly goes lax and Type flips it over to entangle their fingers together.

“They are, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

It’s soft; barely spoken above a whisper and it’s so different from the boisterous, exuberant way that Tharn speaks and Type hates it.

Type wants to apologize; wants to say sorry for bringing those nightmares into Tharn’s life. But he also knows that that will only upset Tharn further; the man is always insistent that Type’s nightmares and his traumatic past is not something to apologize for.

But he has to do something; something to make Tharn understand how sorry he is and how much; despite him being unable to say it; how much he loves Tharn and is grateful for him.

So he moves. Undoing his seatbelt, he reaches over Tharn and finds the lever under the seat that sends the man backwards. In the newfound space created, Type maneuvers himself so that he’s now somehow straddling Tharn and he ignores the man’s sputterings and flushed cheeks.

“Type! What are you do-oh..”

Type leans forward and he presses his forehead against Tharn’s and he breathes. His hands curl around Tharn’s shoulders and the man’s hands settle along his waist and they just...exist.

Under his fingers, he feels the tension seep out of Tharn, feels his body relax into the seat.

Pulling back just enough that he can see Tharn’s eyes, Type smiles soft, “I’m here. With you and _for_ you. Always _tua-eng_.”

It’s such a simple thing but it makes Tharn’s eyes water and he pushes his head into Type’s neck and long fingers squeeze his waist.

They sit there, breathing, living, _existing_ for one another. Nobody sees them through the dark tinted windows and they miss their first class.

Neither boy cares.

**Author's Note:**

> A.N: I've got some more ideas coming so don't you worry! Also if there are certain prompts or whatever you guys would like to see within this world, please let me know and let's see what I can do! :D 
> 
> Come follow me on tumblr: indiefanficchica or on TikTok: milkchoconessa for a lot of BL content :D you can see my genuine reaction to seeing that new TharnType update :D


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